


To Spite the Face

by Anonymous



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Childhood, Gen, Minor Injuries, Pre-Thor (2011), Sibling Rivalry, implied self-destructive behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 14:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14191098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Thor and Loki decide to settle their differences by climbing a tree.Or, how many times can you offer your hand to someone, only to have it slapped back.





	To Spite the Face

It was the tallest tree Thor had ever seen, and stood alone at the top of the hill. He'd never been that good at telling trees apart, especially before the leaves came in, but he suspected it was an ash, one as ancient as Asgard itself, and if he hadn't known better, he would have guessed it was the very tree that was supposed to hold the nine worlds together.

He stepped right next to it, his feet brushing against knobby roots thicker than his entire body, and took off his glove to press his palm against the bark. It was rough and jagged, almost like the scales of a giant wyrm, and dotted with round patches of lichen that resembled white flowers. Small flakes of lichen came off as he brushed his fingers along the deep grooves, but the bark itself remained completely intact.

He looked up. The top, assuming there even was one and the tree didn't simply rise all the way to the stars, was hidden behind a massive labyrinth of branches. In summertime, once the leaves came in, they would make a good shelter from rain. As it were, the bare branches waved aimlessly in the spring breeze.

More crucially, however, the lowest branch was at his chest level, and looked extremely sturdy. He could already picture himself standing on it, reaching for the next foothold, and then the next...

He let go and turned his head. "What do you think?"

Loki wrapped his cloak more closely around himself — needlessly, Thor thought, as it was perfectly warm in the sunlight — and squinted at the tree. "I liked the oak better."

"This one's bigger."

Loki sneered as if he had suggested they forget their current contest and instead jump into the freezing waterfall. "It also only has one branch in reach."

"And?"

"And, we can't both climb on it at once. I thought you said you wanted us to start on even footing."

Thor resisted the urge to make a fist. Loki had been insufferable lately, and if not for Mother very insistently telling them to spend time together in a tone that brooked no argument, he would have ditched his brother at the first possible opportunity. The feeling was mutual: his chest still throbbed where Loki had stabbed him during the Snake Incident three weeks prior.

Still, after the initial brawl the moment they had left Mother's sight, they had agreed to find some other way to settle their differences, something that wouldn't lead to obvious injuries and thus probing questions, but which would allow them to test their mettle all the same. They had decided on a tree-climbing race, and surely, picking the tallest tree of all made for the best challenge.

"You can climb up first," Thor decided. "We'll start once you have both your feet on the branch."

Loki gave him a long, cool look, one that either meant he was insulted by the suggestion, or else that he had hoped Thor would say as much all along. It was impossible to tell with him.

"No," he said after a long pause, pushing his hair behind his ear before re-folding his arms. It might have been a coincidence that they had both decided to grow their hair long at the same time, but Thor thought it far more likely his brother was copying him.

He waited, expecting Loki to explain himself, but as usual, he didn't. Likely he felt it wouldn't count if he won with a handicap, something Thor couldn't help but agree with.

"Okay, how about..." He turned his head upwards. After the lowest branch, there were two possible paths at roughly the same height, one winding towards the valley to the east, the other towards the palace. "We'll climb on the first branch and start the race from there instead."

After another long pause, this time accompanied by a withering look, Loki gave a tiny, stone-faced nod.

At that, Thor unclasped his cloak. It was still fairly cool — pockets of snow remained in patches in every shadow — but the effort of climbing was sure to keep him warm. He dropped the cloak on the ground, followed by his gloves, then hoisted himself onto the branch. He stood up and leaned against the trunk, waiting for Loki, who busied himself with tying his own cloak around himself before following.

Thor almost extended his hand to help Loki up as he reached for the branch, but stopped himself at the last moment. The race hadn't officially begun yet, but really, it had been on the moment they had set off to find a suitable tree. In fact, if he was completely honest with himself, it had been on since the moment Loki had been born.

All the same, it only took a moment till Loki was standing next to him, balancing on the branch on one foot for no other discernible reason than to show off. Thor waited until he steadied himself, then met his eyes.

"Ready?

Loki's gaze was like a knife. "Ready."

Thor nodded and turned to face the next branch, then frowned. "And no turning into a squirrel."

He could practically hear Loki rolling his eyes. "Fine. No turning into a squirrel."

"Or anything else."

"Or anything else." If Thor had to guess, some of the annoyance in Loki's voice was due to his plans being foiled. "Just say go already."

"In a moment." He let go of the trunk. "Ready. Go!"

Wasting no time, he grabbed the branch ahead, and in the following moment was standing on it. Loki was already on the move, too, going for a branch almost directly above the first, his eyes darting around, already looking for the next foothold.

That was the last bit of attention Thor afforded his brother. Looking around himself, he found what looked like a fast route, winding to the right and starting with a branch somewhat higher up. He grasped onto it, placed one foot against the trunk, and kicked himself upwards. It was enough momentum to get him where he wanted to be.

He smiled, feeling a rush of energy as the roots and stones on the ground grew smaller and smaller. For the time being, there was nothing in the world but the creak of the branches, the feel of the uneven bark under his hands, and the wind rustling the twigs all around him. His feet always found a secure footing, and when he had to haul himself around a branch to climb ahead, he felt a curious tingle in his stomach, like he was about to fly.

After the excitement began to fade, he looked up. Though so far he had kept his word, it appeared Loki could move as nimbly as a squirrel even without taking the shape of one. Already, he was several feet higher up than Thor, and climbing ever higher.

Thor shook his hair away from his face and soldiered on. The race was far from lost, even if the sheer joy of climbing was slowly being replaced by a growing ache in his limbs. He reahed a for thin, but resilient-looking branch to his left.

Just then, the branch and everything else disappeared, replaced by a uniform field of green. It took him a moment to realize what had happened, then shook his head violently, managing to shake Loki's cloak off himself. It drifted towards the ground, briefly snagging onto a lower branch before falling right next to where Thor had left his own cloak, the green partially covering the red.

He glared upwards and pulled himself to the next branch. "Cheater."

Loki didn't even bother to look down. "It came off on its own."

Thor rolled his eyes, but there was no more time to waste, and so he kept going. The higher he made it, the more branches there were, and the slimmer and more delicate they got. Several creaked ominously under his weight, and he vaguely remembered hearing trees were weaker after a long winter, to where branches could simply break off under pressure.

Even so, he was moving ahead at a good clip. His arms were definitely aching now, but he felt it only spurred him on, just like being tagged early on during sparring only made him more eager to charge ahead and fight as best he could. Even when he bumped his head against another branch and scratched his hand against some rough twigs, he found himself smiling again.

Besides, he wasn't the only one tiring out. When, with some effort, he got up to the next branch, he found Loki crouching on another branch close by, leaning heavily against the trunk with his face drawn into an exhausted frown. Upon spotting Thor he glared daggers at him, but could do little else as Thor gave him a sardonic grin and reached for the next handhold.

Amazed that he had overtaken Loki in so little time, he kept moving with renewed vigor, pushing twigs from his path and squirming between tightly knit branches, paying no attention to the rough bark scratching him as if the tree itself was determined to fight him to keep him from reaching the top.

With a groan, he pushed himself to yet another branch, but when he looked to find the next handhold, he realized with a start that there were none. A couple of errant twigs waved in the air above his head, too frail to support anything heavier than a sparrow, and above them, there was nothing but the sky and white clouds of early spring.

His legs shaking from the effort, he leaned against the thinning trunk and slowly stood up. His fingers curled around the topmost twig, the absolute highest point of tree.

He had won.

The smile returned on his face as he caught his breath and made sure he was standing securely. Finally, he leaned against the trunk and took in the view.

Before him, Asgard opened up in a vision of wonder. He turned his head to see the glittering rivers, the evergreen forest, the waterfall by the mountain, the vast fields still frozen and barren after winter, and the valley slowly returning to life around the snaking river. There was the boulder he had stood on the previous summer for a better look at the stars, and there was the palace, its roofs gleaming in the afternoon light. If he squinted, he could just barely make out small, colorful figures moving in the courtyard, like a rainbow of ants.

Asgard. His home. His kingdom. And one day, his dominion.

He breathed in the smell of wind and resin and let out a contended sigh. Even if he had lost, the climb would have been worth it just for the view.

Speaking of the race... Loki was still clambering after him and had almost reached the top, but it was obvious it took everything he had just to hold on. Thor supposed he had simply run out of strength.

He crouched down, carefully shifting his weight, and offered Loki his hand. Loki stared at it with suspicion, like he was expecting it to turn into a fist.

He smiled, his earlier annoyance feeling small and insignificant at that height. "Come on. You have to see this."

Loki reached out and clutched his hand, but before Thor could pull him up, he hesitated. "Wait. My foot's stuck."

It didn't look particularly stuck from where Thor stood, but he waited patiently as Loki turned his foot around in the fork he had lodged it in, pushing away from the trunk with one hand and pressing down on Thor's with the other. The moment stretched on, and he quickly lost interest in his brother's struggles, returning his attention to the beauty of Asgard.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Loki pause and tilt his head upwards. As he turned his head to return the look, Loki suddenly yanked at his hand with all his might.

Thor's feet slipped from the branch.

He staggered, seeking purchase from the trunk, but it was already too late; he was falling, with nothing to hold onto. Instinctively, he tightened his grip around the one thing he could grasp, the one he had already been holding: Loki's hand.

The last thing he saw was Loki's widening eyes, and then they were already colliding, Loki letting out a thin scream as he was toppled over by the entirety of Thor's weight, and before Thor could so much as blink, they were both hurtling down as one entangled, confused being.

His elbow struck against a passing branch, and blindly, he groped for it. Through some miracle, he managed to latch on, but his relief lasted no longer than a heartbeat: his shoulder gave an audible pop, followed by a sudden, excruciating pain that made him forget about everything else even as he fell once more. After that, he was only vaguely aware of the tree whirring by and the air whistling in his ears, and only slightly more aware of the way his fall was slowed down each time his body struck a branch, delaying but still failing to end it.

His hand collided with another branch, hard, and the impact separated him from Loki — funny, a detached part of him thought, he hadn't realized they'd still been clinging to each another — and after that he felt nothing until his fall came to abrupt halt, with a tremendous crash that made his entire body shake and knocked the air out of his lungs. The world went black.

It took several moments for his vision to clear and for the world to start making sense again, after which he realized he had landed on a large bough he had passed by what now felt like hours ago. His left leg and arm dangled awkwardly in empty air, but apart from that all of him was securely on the branch, with his head and shoulders reclining against the trunk.

He blinked at the sky above, waiting for the blood roaring in his ears to quiet down. Now that it was over, he was more amazed than frightened. The treetop was so far away now: to think how much time and effort it had taken to climb all the way up there, and how fast the way down had been by comparison.

He almost chuckled, then turned his head to see how far away the ground was. He immediately regretted it. An immense wave of pain and nausea washed away all other thoughts, blinding him and leaving him panting for air.

After what felt like an eternity, the worst of the agony receded, replaced by a dull, throbbing ache radiating from his damaged shoulder. He gazed quietly at the clouds as his heartbeat settled down and dread began to settle in. He would have to experiment and see how much he could really move, but it was clear that even with the unexpected running start, the climb down would be far more arduous than the climb up had been.

It was then that he noticed the weight on his calf. Carefully, he raised his gaze, expecting to see a broken branch lying on his leg, only to instead discover a green-clad arm.

Right. He hadn't been alone.

Thankfully, the rest of Loki was still attached to his arm. He was lying face-down just beyond Thor's reach, his lower body supported by a collection of smaller branches. He wasn't moving, but looked otherwise unharmed.

After he had absorbed all this, Thor's relief was replaced with anger. He couldn't move to shake Loki without causing himself unnecessary agony, so he settled for jostling Loki's arm with his leg. "Hey!"

He received no response.

Thor sighed. With utmost care, he pushed himself higher up against the tree, and after riding out the jolt of pain the movement caused him, he very slowly leaned forward till he could reach far enough to shake Loki's shoulder. "Loki?"

Again, no response. Gritting his teeth, he used all the force his good arm could muster and turned him. Loki's head lolled awkwardly to the side, revealing closed eyes and a bloody gash on his forehead.

Thor's blood ran cold. He let go, swallowing down sudden panic, before giving the wound a second look. It was really just a shallow scratch, the kind even the most zealous healer wouldn't bother with — Thor received worse cuts on the training grounds every single week. But then, why wasn't Loki moving? There was a chance it was a ruse, of course, and he was simply biding his time to strike when Thor lowered his guard, but if the eerie, boneless way his head moved from side to side when Thor shook him was faked, he was the greatest actor in all of Asgard.

Thor leaned back to clutch his throbbing arm and considered his options, doing his best to ignore the pit that had opened in his stomach. There was no way he could climb down and carry Loki with him. It would be difficult enough to climb down by himself with his useless, floppy arm, and in the time it took him, there was a good chance Loki would accidentally roll over and tumble onto the ground.

He looked down, then returned to shaking Loki with fresh resolve. "I don't know if you can hear me, but you have to wake up now or else I'm going to push you down."

It was as if the empty threat had been a magic spell: Loki's eyelashes fluttered, and after a few short moments, he cracked his eyes open, grimacing uncertainly at Thor.

"What—" He moved to push himself up only to freeze at once, going prone again with a visible shudder.

"I should be the one asking you that." This time, Thor didn't really feel the anger he knew he was supposed to feel. Even so, he had to know. "Why did you pull me down?"

Loki gazed at him with dull eyes, like he hadn't understood the question. Thor couldn't tell if he was still genuinely dazed or just messing with him.

He sighed. Really, what had he expected? "We have to get home. Can you move?"

Loki's eyes narrowed, but apparently being in pain had taken the worst edge off his stubbornness. He pushed his upper body upwards, but it was a feeble effort, and he soon lay himself back down, shivering all over.

Thor leaned back against the tree, gathering his strength as he waited for Loki to find his. His own injury was, if anything, getting worse by the moment: when it didn't throb, it felt weak and oddly cold, like someone had taken his nice, functional shoulder and replaced it with a slab of solid grease. Nothing Mother couldn't fix, of course, but even she couldn't heal injuries she wasn't aware of.

After what felt like minutes, he pulled himself together and extended his good arm. "Come on. We can't stay here."

Again, Loki stared at his hand. With another grimace, he shifted to his side and slowly brought his hand towards Thor's. Thor leaned forward, ignoring the blossoming pain.

Just before their fingers touched, Loki let his hand drop.

Thor wavered, his own hand still in the air. At first he thought Loki had given up due to pain, but then he saw his eyes, staring intently at him. There was pain there, sure, but also venom, and defiance, and something dark and unpleasant Thor wasn't sure he could name.

Before he could understand why, the expression shifted, and Loki doubled over with a sob.

Thor crawled forward and snatched Loki's arm by the wrist. He lacked the strength to pull him upright, but after several more moments of making no effort to budge, Loki finally sat up on his own.

They glared at each other. The strange shadow in Loki's eyes was gone, replaced by a tired look.

Thor spoke up. "The only way we'll get down—"

"I know." Loki swayed as he responded, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not stupid."

The further into the background Thor's anger faded, the more uncomfortable it made him to see his brother so subdued. He let the obvious retort pass by and instead took hold of his hand, interweaving their fingers. "Let's go. We can make it."

Loki said nothing, but he gave Thor's hand a light squeeze, and when their eyes next met, any remaining animosity was gone.

Even so, Thor couldn't help but wonder as they began their long, arduous descent, if a day would come when they both couldn't make it.


End file.
